


Demon Blues

by Snowells1234



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 01:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowells1234/pseuds/Snowells1234
Summary: The team are thrown into the supernatural world when Meta Humans turn up dead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new fanfiction may be dark. It is Snowells.

Strides long and decisive, Mark Mardon turned down a familiar dark alley. He could hear an echo after his every step. Anyone else might be nervous or even scared - but not him. His name had been made after his first fight with The Flash. Nobody, but nobody messed with the Weather Wizard.

What dumb fuck was going to interrupt his drinking plans? Mark stopped, turned around and shouted, “Show yourself!” No more echoes. The city noises off in the distance were the familiar sirens, cars and the pathetic lives of the idiots he enjoyed stealing from. Garish neon announced a dive bar and Mark swaggered inside.

The tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose but Mark sat at a scarred table anyway and scanned the many faces in the crowd. There was no way anyone was watching him. His power made him invincible. Deciding his paranoia was nothing but an irrational, aberrant moment, he ordered a beer.

A long draft of the cold brew was satisfying. Mark watched the waitress’ ass swish back and forth as she tucked her tip into a pocket. She was more his brother’s type and that got his stomach in a knot. Joe West was the reason he’d lost his brother. Joe West was the reason his life was nothing but shit. He committed crime after crime, banks heisted and thieving from stores in a quest to fill his pathetic life.

His own goddamn father had been a drunk, making his and Clyde’s life a living hell of beatings sprinkled with joyous occasions of abandonment. How sick is that? What kind of father is so shitty that his kids look forward to when he fucks off for weeks at a time? Mark did his best looking after his younger brother. They had been all each other could count on. But his best had still led Clyde down a miserable bank robbing path. Stealing to survive. The past was dead and gone, and nothing could change that.

Mark smelled the subtle perfume of the woman as she moved past him, not believing his eyes as she gracefully sank into the seat across from him. Like a gentleman he lowered the beer from his lips and gave her his most charming smile. “Hey, you lookin’ for some fun?”

She didn’t speak, allowing the flutter of her lashes to give Mark an answer.

Mark guzzled the rest of his beer and slammed it on the table. Offering his hand to the mysterious woman, he stood, his bar stool skidding. “Wanna ditch this place?”

Outside was distinctly colder than before - he’d been five minutes inside the bar at most. Fuck. Was there another weather meta he needed to snuff or dominate? But this woman had curves in all the right places and Mark needed a distraction from his melancholic thoughts of his brother. 

“So, what’s your name, darlin’?”

The woman smoothed her white silk blouse and stared at him with deep green eyes, as if they could bore into his soul. “You may call me Desdemona.” Her voice was honey and lilted with an exotic european accent.

“Unusual. Just like how I like my companionship. Where are you from?” Mark felt drawn to this woman and didn’t question why it had happened so fast. Desdemona reached up, caressing her cold hand against his cheek. Mark’s previous question and his desire for the answer was completely gone from his memory.

In a daze Mark led Desdemona back to his apartment. He swore he could hear thumping but there was no way to tell if it was his head or heart. Clinging to his arm the whole way, Desdemona was quiet other than the click of her heels on garbage strewn pavement. “My place is in this building.” Mark pointed upwards, then dizziness hit him.

Sharply manicured nails touched his lips, shushing him. “Petty little humans trying to play God.” Her formerly soft voice became gravelly and her eyes glowed. “Thanks to you I will be free. My debt paid to him.”

Mark slumped into a heap on the filthy ground and the woman calling herself Desdemona stood over him as his vision failed and he saw only blackness.

Pushing himself up, Mark stood on trembling legs and searched for the strange woman who’d left him in the alley behind his apartment. Checking his pockets, he found his wallet and all ill-gotten gains still inside. He took the stairs, leaning heavily on the rails, feeling drained of energy but unwilling to think any deeper about why. Just one beer had never knocked him on his ass like this. Slowly Mark made it to his door, jamming his key into the lock and stumbling inside. In his delirious state everything looked as it should. The small television set sat in the corner blaring a news story, the couch held a raggedy afghan and the spindly coffee table was covered in newspapers.

Closing the door, Mark tripped over a stack of papers he’d been meaning to throw out but his plans for avenging his brother had kept him too busy to get rid of them. He grabbed the edge of the coffee table and tried to shake his head clear of the fog in his brain, pushing himself upright and deciding to go into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He’d feel better with some caffeine. Inching forward he smelled something - but it wasn’t coming to mind exactly what it was.

He pushed open the kitchen door, empty. But the coffee machine light was on, and the carafe was full. Knitting his brows together, Mark ran a hand through his hair and then shrugged. Maybe he’d programmed it? Taking a cup out of the sink he grabbed the pot and poured himself a drink. He blew on the hot liquid and then took a sip. What the fuck was that taste? He spat, and red sprayed over his white tiles. The cup fell out of his nerveless fingers and shattered, adding more spatters from the red liquid. Fear iced his spine. Breaking free from his daze, Mark turned the tap on full blast and began to wash out his mouth.

“Tch. That’s a waste of perfectly good blood.” The voice was male, a bit distorted but clearly amused and his accent matched the woman from last night.

Mark knew his father had always said to hide any fear, but at this particular moment that was impossible. Reflexively he cut the water and turned, rivulets of water dampening his shirt just like sweat would. A man in a black mask sat at his table; staring, his eyes a bright blue and focussed. Mark feared the stranger could see into his very soul.

“Wh-what do you want?” Mark curses himself for the way his voice cracked.

The intruder leisurely stood and shook his head. “To teach the world a lesson they have forgotten.” He sauntered closer and held up a hand, wagging his finger. “You, lowly as you are, will be my messenger.”

Not in the mood for anyone's mind games, Mark scoffed, "I'm not anybody’s messenger boy and you better get the fuck outta here or there's going to be trouble."

Laughing, the dark masked figure stalked closer, his hands thrust into his pockets. Mark raised his hands, ready to attack. The intruder laughed. Mark filled the room with dark clouds, lightning striking beside the masked intruder, leaving a black imprint on the floor. 

"Pfft. Is that it?" 

Anger filled Mark as he watched the intruder come closer, removing his hand from his pocket. Now black smoke formed around his hand, coalescing into a dagger. 

Using his power, the dark clouds increased, causing a strong wind to form. Manipulating the cloud, Mark hit the intruder directly in the chest with lightning. Instead of falling and writhing in pain like all his other victims, the figure appeared to absorb his power as the lightning crackled around his form.

The intruder lifted his hand, the clouds increased, snuffing the light from the room. Everything shook and trembled as thunder clapped and clapped hard. Mark couldn't see anything but felt his heart hammering wildly in his chest. Suddenly, the room filled with a blinding white light as Mark was shot with his own power, sending him flying into the far wall. 

"Would you look at that? You Meta Humans think you’re Gods...but you’re not. I'm here to make sure you mortals don't forget that." As the intruder spoke the clouds decreased, allowing Mark to see. In a blur the figure vanished but popped right in front of Mark, stabbing him with the dagger. The pain was excruciating - like nothing he'd ever felt before. Looking down, Mark watched as the dagger glowed a dull green that grew brighter as he felt his pulse weaken. Mark knew he wasn't going to avenge his brother; he wouldn’t see another sunrise or sunset. He was about to die, but he didn't understand how such a death would make him a messenger. 

The figure watched as Mark’s soul was drained and caught in the dagger. He knew he would need more, this was just the beginning. He had to be ready when the time came for his ascension into full Godly status. There would be no more having to watch over the ants. No more would he have to guide these fools into the afterlife. Standing, he looked around the small kitchen and all the wasted blood on the floor. Hovering his hand over the mess he used his powers to inscribe a message. It was only three words but he knew it would convey his meaning. 'God was here.'


	2. Inferna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demon stalks a new victim.

Caitlin stared at the computer screen displaying the face of the dangerous Meta Human known as Weather Wizard. The team was still trying to locate his whereabouts. 

Feeling a strong grip around her waist Caitlin gasped, whirling around to come face to face with Harry who then gave her a playful smile and a sly wink.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Giving him a small nudge, Caitlin smiled and leaned in for a kiss but suddenly stopped, pulled back and looked around the room making sure they were truly alone.

Harry tapped her nose. "You know the longer we keep hiding this from the team, the more awkward it becomes." Caitlin sighed, she knew Harry was right but she didn't want to tell the team about their relationship. Maybe later. Removing his hand from around her waist, Harry ran a hand through his hair and walked away. Reaching out she tried to grab him by the hand but Harry slipped away. The sting of rejection hurt but she knew he had a point. 

><><><><><><><

Walking down the sidewalk the dark figure stalked closer to his next victim. He had been watching them for a few weeks learning his schedule and who he talked to. The only thing he was waiting for was the perfect time to strike. The man he'd been following was known as The Mist. He couldn't understand why the mortals insisted on ridiculous nicknames. Kyle Nimbus had the ability to turn himself into poisonous gas it was a useful power but a weak one. 

"Hey handsome, looking for a good time?" Rolling his eyes the figure turned to the barely clothed woman and waved his hand in front of her face. A dazed look came across her heavily makeup eyes. Shaking his head he turned back to his target but he was gone. Rage built up inside him like a fire.

Turning around he watched as the hooker who’d distracted him began to stumble down the alley. Reaching out he placed his hand on top of her scalp, mumbling some demonic words. He lifted his hand and stood there watching as the woman continued on her way down the alley and into the busy street, cars blowing their horns and swerving out of the way. The woman suddenly stopped, looked both ways and then threw herself in front of an oncoming bus. 

Only the weak minded can be pushed to dispose of themselves. 

A crowd surrounded the woman and he used the distraction to blend in with his surroundings.

<><><><><><><

Taking a sip of coffee, Harry rubbed his face trying to concentrate on the equation in front of him but his mind kept bringing up images of Caitlin and last night. Her eyes seemed to glow after their passionate exploits - and he remembered how she sounded reaching her climax. These thoughts alone made his blood travel south. Shaking the memories out of his head, Harry couldn't understand why Caitlin would want to continue to keep their relationship a secret. They’d been an item for just over three months. Was she ashamed? He just couldn't wrap his head around it. 

"Harry! You better get in the cortex." Cisco's voice rang throughout his work room.

Without a second thought Harry got up to answer the summons. Walking into the cortex, he could see everyone gathered around and looking at the monitors above them. The screens displayed a picture of Mark Mardon and a crime scene photo of Mardon with a stab wound to his heart.

Harry could put two and two together as good as the next person, but he asked anyway, "What happened?" Drawn to Caitlin, Harry moved to stand next to her and felt the sudden urge to reach out - but he knew she wouldn't like that, instead he folded his arms across his chest. 

Joe West pulled him from his thoughts. "Mark Mardon was murdered last night. A single stab wound through the heart."

"Why are you telling us this? Sounds like a pure criminal case. Even metas can be run afoul of other criminals." Caitlin's brows knitted together. 

Harry thought she looked adorable when she scrunched her face like that. 

"That's not why I'm telling you this. We also found a message." Hitting the remote, another image popped up. Harry felt a chill run down his spine as he stared at the bloody message, 'God was here.' 

"Whoa, so we're thinking this was another meta?" Iris spoke in a quiet voice.

"With a message like ‘god was here’ - it's possible." Barry said, his eyes never leaving the screen. 

"Yeah, but even regular people can leave a message like that." Cisco argued. 

Harry joined the discussion and agreed the perpetrator could be anyone. Looking at Caitlin again, he watched as she just stared at the images. She looked sad. Of course Caitlin would feel bad for Mark Mardon, no one deserved to be killed, even a criminal. Just one of the many reasons Harry loved Caitlin. 

"Well, whatever happened, we need to find out what that was." Barry spoke up, sounding as determined as usual. 

"Barry's right." Joe said but was cut off by his phone ringing. "Hello, this is detective West. Yeah we'll be right there." Hanging up the phone, Joe grimaced. 

"What's wrong?" Iris’ voice trembled. 

"We got another body."

><><><><><><

Carrying the takeout bag, Caitlin walked into Harry's workshop. Things were still a little tense but that didn't mean they couldn't have lunch together.

"I got your favorite." Caitlin spoke in a sing-song voice and held up the bag for him to see. 

Harry gave her a small smile before capping his marker and joining her at his work bench. 

She removed the food from the bag and the strong smell of grease hit Harry's nose making his mouth water. "What would I do without you?"

Pretending to think about it Caitlin smiled brightly, "Oh I don't know, probably starve." She handed him his food before removing her own from the brown bag.

Caitlin lifted her head and said, "Listen, about this morning, I've been thinking about it and I think you’re right. We should tell the team about us. But at a good time." She leaned against Harry. “I wanted to apologize. We’d talked about this before but I let my insecurities push me into saying something I regret.”

Harry didn't want to pressure Caitlin into telling the team, but if she was ready, then all for the better. “You don’t have to be sorry. We both know our team would be an endless source of jokes.” Harry gave Caitlin a soft smile. “And none of the jokes would be good.”

“True.” Caitlin rubbed Harry’s forearm. “We can table this discussion and for now, agree to disagree? We can talk shop. Yeah?”

Harry nodded. "Have you heard anything from Barry?" Harry was curious about this new case. He had to admit it did look like another Meta had killed Mardon, but he just wasn't sure. 

"Yeah, this time a non Meta Human was hit by a bus. Witnesses say she jumped in front of it." 

“Why call Joe in on a suicide?” 

Caitlin cleared her throat. "On the front of the bus, was a message in the same style of writing, ‘God was here’ and in blood."

><><><><><><

Furiously pacing back and forth the figure pulled on his hair. He’d never missed a target -ever- and if it hadn't been for that whore, a new soul would have joined his collection. Storming to the portrait of himself, he removed it from the wall. Waving his hand over the safe, it popped open. At first he just watched as the green mist swirled inside the hundreds of small bottles. Reaching inside, he removed one bottle. It had no identification on it but he knew who it belonged to. He knew each and every soul inside that safe. 

Watching it twist inside the bottle, he knew his plan was almost complete. He just needed three more souls. A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts. Returning the soul inside the safe, he closed it and replaced the portrait. Who would possibly be stupid enough to come here? Curious, he lifted his hand and the door swung open to reveal a woman.

"Desmonda, what brings you here?" He snapped. The way that she jumped at his voice made him laugh.

Taking a tentative step inside, Desdemona trembled.

He noted that she looked extremely nervous. Good, I want demons and mortals to be afraid. 

"I'm here because you said that you would free my soul if I helped you. And I did!" Her voice shook with each word.

Laughing, he took a few steps towards her. "You’re funny. I'm not about to release a valuable asset. Now, why would I do that?" 

Taking another tentative step towards him, she was now face to face with her tormentor. "You promised that I could be free of limbo to reunite with my family if I helped." 

Rolling his eyes, he really couldn't understand these human emotions and why she had the need to spew them at him. "You do realize that I decide where you go... So why would you annoy me? I gave you powers to help me, but apparently, that's not good enough." He could feel his anger rising.

Desmonda started shaking. "Please! I don't want to do this anymore!" She pleaded. 

Tears streamed down her face but that only infuriated him more. "Fine. You want to be with your family? I'll send you there but not to the ones you’re thinking of." Lifting his hands he could feel the all familiar power surge through his body. Opening his eyes, they glowed red. He whispered "Inferna." 

Desmonda screamed in agony as flames engulfed her entire being. And then there was nothing but ash at his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inferna is Latin for underworld. I want to thank DancesWithSeatbelts for helping me with this chapter. Please leave your reviews and thoughts.


	3. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things unfold.

Satisfied and warm in Harry’s embrace, Caitlin stretched and would have purred if she could be assured that wouldn’t wake her lover - Harry had put in extra effort last night, and the small ache and soreness between her thighs were the proof. Well, maybe one good turn deserved another? Who wouldn’t want a body-shaking climax to start the day? Or more tortuous tickling kisses? He had worked her into a frenzy, kissing and nipping her tender neck and the inside of her elbow - Harry knew each and every sweet spot. Caitlin sighed contentedly and wiggled around to face Harry to watch his impressive naked chest rise and fall as his slumber continued - but there wouldn’t get a better chance than right now, and so she crept out of bed. Shivering in the cooler air, Caitlin raced to her bathroom and her fluffy bathrobe.

Snuggling into her bathrobe, Caitlin was grateful for the warmth it provided. Looking around her cluttered bathroom sink she began rummaging through her makeup bag. Pulling a few items out, Caitlin made her way back to the bedroom where an unsuspecting Harry was still sound asleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Caitlin took the red lipstick and uncapped it; her grin grew wider as she brought it closer to Harry's lips. Gently, she applied a small amount. He really did look good in red. Finishing up with the lipstick, she closed it and set it beside her. Fighting the urge to laugh Caitlin took slow breaths as she opened the eye shadow. Grabbing the small brush she loaded a good amount of blue powder and very gently put it to Harry’s eyelids. 

Suddenly Harry's hand came up, swatting her away; he was still half asleep so he didn't know what she had done. Quickly Caitlin collected her supplies and rushed back to the bathroom. Peeking her head out the door she could see he was awake and rubbing his eyes - smearing the blue eyeshadow into a garish mess. Giggling, Caitlin walked into the room watching Harry’s unwitting show. 

“Good morning beautiful.” His sleepy voice was something Caitlin loved, it made her go weak in the knees. Walking over she leaned down and lovingly caressed his face, dropping a quick peck to his lips. She noticed his frown(a cute kind of sour) - she knew he wanted the kiss to go on but they didn't have time. The bed dipped and its springs complained as Harry rolled over and stood, Caitlin took the time to admire his taut backside.

“Like what you see?” Harry smirked as he trudged to the bathroom, after last night’s activities, only coffee would put the oomph back in his steps. He only stayed a few seconds before returning giving her an accusing look. Hands on hips, he mock glared. “I think I make this lipstick look good.” Gliding over to her side, Caitlin's grin grew wider as Harry began tickling her. She tried to wiggle away from him but he held tight, making her squeal with laughter; breathing heavy, tears streamed down her face. 

“Say ‘mercy’ and I'll stop.” 

Caitlin couldn't help but laugh even harder as Harry moved his hand higher, tickling her ribcage - she hated how he knew just the right spot to torture her. Breath struggling, Caitlin held up her hands in surrender. “Mercy! Please, mercy!” Her giggles were loud and uneven as her breath hitched and lungs strained. 

Caitlin panted as Harry released her for a brief second and then wrapped his arms around her tight, kissing her forehead. Squirming in his embrace she could see lipstick smeared on his face - he must have gotten it on her somewhere, judging from the amount gone. 

“You win this round, Harry,” Caitlin purred. Leaning in to kiss him she stopped when her phone rang. Pulling away, she grabbed her cell from the nightstand and answered. 

“Caitlin, we need you here, there's been another killing.”

Signing and closing her eyes Caitlin groaned. “Yeah, I'll be right there.” Hanging up, she saw Harry's brows knitted. "We have to get to STAR Labs. There's been another killing." 

They were both silent as they got ready to face this new development. Heading out of her bedroom, Caitlin stopped when as Harry grabbed her arm. "Whatever this thing is that's killing people, don't worry. The team will stop it." Harry smiled at Caitlin.

Nodding, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. So much for leisure in Harry’s company. Life had a way of reminding everyone there was a finite amount of time.

><><><><><

Stepping into STAR Labs, Caitlin’s guts twisted. She couldn't help but feel ill at ease thinking about this particular Meta who had killed three people in just three days - but she trusted Harry and the great team they had that they would figure this out and stop this person from killing anyone else. 

"Good morning." Cisco said with a yawn.

"And yourself." Harry replied from behind making her jump slightly. She hadn’t heard him following her, and he was supposed to wait two minutes before coming in. 

"Well, our latest victim is Kyle Nimbus, or as you may remember him, The Mist. He was found with a single stab wound to the heart and the same message as the others. Found not too far from the body." 

Caitlin nodded as she listened, a thought popped into her head. "How did they stab him? I mean his whole power was that he could turn into a poisonous gas. How is that possible?"

"I don't know. This whole case seems to be one giant question mark." Harry rubbed the back of his head.

><><><><><

The ominous figure stood on the other side of the street, watching as the CCPD ran around the crime scene. Even if he went in right now and confessed, no one could stop him. Feeling out of the loop was unacceptable and that was something he didn't like. Walking across the street he stopped a young officer, she was probably in her late twenties with green eyes and brown hair. Reaching out he grabbed her arm and pulled her in close - so close her could smell the artificial coconut shampoo scent that clung to her hair. Lowering his face closer to hers, he whispered, "Pareo." 

He watched as her eyes turned black, smirking. This was almost too easy. She blinked and they returned to normal. In a monotone voice she intoned, "Ego parere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations are obey and I will obey.
> 
> Please review and tell me what you think. Thank you danceswithseatbelts for helping me withis chapter. 
> 
> Sorry it took forever to update things got in the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave your reviews and thoughts. I want to thank DancesWithSeatbelts for helping me with this story.


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